Well you keep checking. It makes me somehow pleased to know that people check, and want to know what I have to say. For now, I don't know whether there is really much I can write about. Louis nags me to do the journal, but then he doesn't do his either. I have to desire to be chained to this desk, or anywhere else for that matter, but when something of importance is added to the site, I will let you know.

I am that balance you say? I like to hope that I am. I like to hope, better still, that I am a guise of good in attractive wrapping; it makes the evil surprises all the more pleasing.

Oh how we could go on and on about that subject. I think it is true though that it could lead to zero, and if it does, is that not my mortal quandary about there being nothing but zero once our time here is done? If, as we live our lives, there is enough of fate, and enough of predestination to balance out, what are we left with? Perhaps in the end, in those final moments I deliver so swiftly, there are soft voices, which explain all of it. Then again, there may be nothing at all. I try to deliver visions and dreams, even to the criminals. I wouldn't want to die without my world swimming in color, so why should they?

You say these things:
Why not me?
Why not say such things to me, soft words, soft as snow that would quell this raging fire?
Why not me?

Why not you? I'm asking. Do you hate that I answer with a question as well. It's a horrible habit I have. How can I explain to you that even in this realm, where words might be all that we have, there are times when I can pick up the so called "vibe", from one person or another. Do you scream because you're so jealous that I've petted Jordan so much more than you? Don't do that. Jealousy is for children and fools. Do I doubt the sincerity you profess, or that you have what feelings you announce first so subtly and then so inflamed? No, I don't. What can I say? I pick and choose whom I verbally caress. Don't think it is something I do intentionally, or that it is anything you or anyone else can dissuade me from doing.

I've answered other questions and comments of yours in other places here in my replies. Seek them out, won't you? I do not know the answer to your riddle though, so I guess you'll not truly be mine - even though you already are. Your poem also, is complicated and abstract, but fine and jagged like dancing to that violin. Be careful, dancing in the street like that. You never know what partner you may wind up with.

It is enough to know that you have done it. I want my name written forever, for posterity and mystery even centuries from now. If I am still around by then, perhaps I will come hunting for it.

You wrote:
Going back over your posts to others, I feel sad. I understand you all to well Lestat, believe me I can relate. Sometimes it hurts me how much I long for you, to hear your voice, to close my eyes and smell and feel you near me. I'm blushing just so you know, I feel like a little girl again. I sometimes feel this is to good to be true. If this is a dream, I hope I never awaken.

Let me answer that and NSSO's post (-laughs- "Not So Silent One's) in the same, by saying this… This is to everyone though, really.

*I* wrote once these words:

" In my isolation now I dream of finding some sweet young thing in a moonlighted chamber -- one of those tender teenagers...I dream of stealing into her room....and I dream of touching her shoulder and smiling as our eyes meet...I clasp her face in both my hands as I bend to kiss her. " Yes darling," I answer," and you don't know how I need you, how I love you, how I always have."

She asks if I meant those as I wrote them. Well of course I meant them, for in at least the very most basic of ways, I mean everything that comes out of my mouth, or off of my fingertips, in that case.

Do I know how it feels for you? Oh yes, I do. I can see all too well as I did on writing that what it might be like to do that. How would it be for me to slip behind and feel the softness of mortal flesh under my hand not as a prelude to harm, but in sensual arousal and fulfillment of such potent longing. Do I know that you'd like to know me, to for one even brief moment to have not only confirmation of my existence, but to see the gleam in my eyes and the touch of my cool fingertips on your skin? Yes, Cherie, I know all too well.

I have given myself to the world as much as I can, and in ways that have amazed my elders and brethren in this life, and yes, even surprised me. That will have to suffice for what longings you have. There is but so much I can do. Hold the longing close to you. Close your eyes and whisper my name. Think of my image, there behind you, close… the bareness of your shoulders coming just beneath my lips. Don't turn around to see if I really am there. Imagine it, and I will be.

How did your grotesque performance of the witch come out? Did you mesmerize them, or did they burn you at the stake?

Actually, considering that a therapist - speaking of psychological therapy- delves into your mind and "forces" you to confront and (hopefully) helps you to overcome your problems, that's not too bad a word for it. So far as the riddle of the water, I couldn't tell you. Go there and find out, why don't you?

I've read what you had to say to me here, and I believe it was in Armand's thread also, about David's creation.

Any of my intimacies that have led to the change or birth of one of my brood is personal, and I rarely discuss why I did it, how, or the moment, because really, how could I possibly convey it to you?

What I can say is that there are times when cruelty is a favorite game of mine. You don't want to find out how true that can be. David had denied me so long, and I wanted him. I wanted him as badly or worse as I ever had any mortal lover, or any mortal to that point that I had pursued, killed, or otherwise fancied. When I chose to go back into my Immortal body, I chose darkness with my own will rather than the first time, long before, when I had been made with force. I wanted my Immortal life back because I loved being Immortal. I wanted the lusts that came with it, the blood and the heightened senses, and so maybe in that, I wanted the 'evil' of it more than ever before.

David always had illusions about me, and they were what allowed him to talk to me as he did, shelter me or come to my aide. Did I make him to prove my evil nature? Did I make him because as he said, I was envious that he had found profit while I had suffered? That may have been part of it. It was also a crime of passion in itself, his making. I wanted it, he challenged me - saying he'd die first before he'd let me do it to him, and I do love a good challenge. In that moment, I thought no, now I * will * do it! I'd promised him loyalty, but I lie, as I said there. I lie to everyone, including myself. I'm quite adept at the game. Those thoughts of Claudia that night in Barbados, answers I had to give her, promises made, the way he looked in the new body; It was all too much to bear without some ultimate release, and as I said, I wanted him. The taste of that body that I'd inhabited only a short time before was beyond measure. The drink was filled with my old David, the heat of his recaptured youth, lush jungles and his recriminations for what I was doing, and even in that drink I suppose, a bit of myself.

How delicate and malicious a dance it was, that night. Creating him, I was enthralled by the process all over again as I watched him grow weaker, even as he spit and fought just as I had done when Magnus took me. Didn't that make him the perfect victim. I would never have wanted him in his old body as much as he satisfied me in the new form. It was as if I had to wait for that very thing with David, and once I did, I could not escape the fact that I would make him as I'd always thought to do.

And oh how marvelous he was in that dark heated night once it had happened. Did I feel regret and think that I'd been unfair? Yes, of course. I'm sure you read that I did, and as I've said, I write truthfully more often than not. Maybe in making him, I thought to be evil and unjust, so that I would deserve nothing more than that in return, and therein find some validity to my eternal life, but in the end as I told David, I wanted to do it, and now it is done.

Perhaps, after all, that is the only answer that matters.

Thank you for making me recall the evening, and for your question Elena. I hope I've satisfied your curiosity at least about this matter.

PS: That song by NIN is one of my favorites, because the lyrics are so very applicable to so much of what I do and feel at times.

Hello to you as well, and welcome to Minuo.

No, I've never needed braces. In the 1700's in the French countryside, they didn't exactly have orthodontists. I've always been gifted with a cruel and perfect smile.

If I am the wolf
Then you are the prey,
With a taste of this darkness
Do you promise to stay?

Hello to the both of you as well. I find myself in chat more frequently than once I was. If I don't have the time to sit and answer all these posts here, I choose to pop in and see what everyone is up to. My damnable curiosities, you know. We'll see each other there some night, I'm sure.

It is my pleasure to make your introduction. Do I have him wrapped around my finger? Such a lovely thought that, for what things I might do. Oh, but that is for me to know, and him to think of, for now. In the meantime, I hope you will enjoy your time here, and I'm sure we'll speak again.